Destiel One Shots
by robotsandblankets
Summary: Simply just Destiel one shots. More will come if feedback is nice.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the characters from the show. This is fiction, btw._

* * *

You would think liking your best friend _that_ way would be difficult. I mean sometimes it is, like when he looks at you with such happiness and you secretly wish it was because of you. It might be difficult when you spend the night at his house and fall asleep next to each other and pray to every god and goddess that you will _not_ subconsciously pull him close.

"Cas, dude,"

I pull my gaze from the area of floor, to meet his eyes. "Hey,"

Dean chuckles and pushes me lightly. "Are you okay, buddy? You zoned out on me there."

I smile at him and nod. "I'm okay."

"Good," Dean stands up from the couch. He starts walking towards the kitchen. "Are you coming with me tonight?"

I look to the TV, trying to focus on the show. "What are you talking about?"

Dean comes back and hands me a can of Dr. Pepper.

"The party tonight!" He exclaims. "I told you Tuesday. Carly Dubbs invited me."

"Just because she invited you doesn't mean she wants me to come."

"But I want you to come." He says.

My stomach feels tight and I think I might begin to blush. "No,"

Dean puts his head on my shoulder.

Do friends do this? Because this happens a lot. Dean will move close, put his arm around me or rest his head on my shoulder. Do friends do this? Of course, they do. That's the only logical reason why he'd do this. It's not like he would like me and do this. Right? Tell me. Am I right? Someone please answer.

"Come on, please." He says. "I don't want to be alone."

"You'll have all your other friends there."

"But my best friend will not be there."

Best friend. _Best friend._ **Best friend.**

Dean raises his head up and looks at me. He pushes his bottom lip out and makes puppy eyes. I stare at him for a couple second, almost letting my eyes drop to his lips.

"Ugh," I throw my head back and look at the ceiling. "Fine. But I won't have fun."

"I bet one thousand dollars you will."

* * *

If that was an actual bet, I'd be one thousand dollars richer.

I try and push my way through the crazy crowd in the living room. It's only 9:30 and most everyone is out of their minds. Eventually I make it to the kitchen, but not without someone twerking on me and/or drunkenly fall on me either.

As soon as I entered the kitchen, I could tell the atmosphere was different. The room was blanketed with a light smoke, everything was in a daze, and the people were much calmer. Then I notice. Everyone in this room was either eating pot brownies or just smoking a joint.

I walk to the counter island and grab the bottle of vodka. I pour the liquid into my red cup, then pour a little of coke in there for more taste. As I walk out the door, to the backyard, a guy tries to offer me a joint. I decline by pushing his hand away.

* * *

I have realized something.

Whenever a person has unlimited vodka, they drink. When they drink, they get drunk. When they are drunk, they think things. When they think things, silly thoughts come to mind.

After my first cup of my vodka/coke mixture, I got more. I got five more cups. After the third, I forgot the coke.

So I sit next to the pool in the lawn chair, staring up at the sky. Sometimes I'll look down at the people in the pool. All of them are fully clothed.

"I want to get in the pool." I say aloud. I go to unzip my jacket.

"Cas!"

I look up and see Dean lingering over me.

"…Hey," I am delayed.

Dean sits next to me. He looks at me with a curious facial expression.

"Deeeaaan," I groan out, falling back onto the chair.

He smiles. "What?"

I roll over on to my side to look at him more clearly. "I…suddenly feel weird."

Dean turns in his lawn chair to look at me. "What kind of weird?"

"It's not the bad weird, but like the good weird. You know? Like I'm good for days – good."

"Well that's…good." Dean laughs a small laugh.

"Dean," I reach for him. "Hold my hand."

He grabs my hand. The sudden contact pushes a chill through me and I giggle.

While lying there I begin to think. Maybe I should just tell Dean, you know? Tell him that I think he is pretty and we should make-out. He'd totally say yes too, because…yeah.

I try to push myself up with one hand. But end up back on the lawn chair.

"Here, let me help you." Dean pulls me up and holds me up until I sit there for myself.

"Hey," I say to him.

"Hey," He says smiles.

"How come it always sounds like you have a smile on your face?"

He smiles wider. "I don't know. I guess I'm always happy with you."

I smile too, giggling, leaning forward, and resting my arms on my legs. "You're happy with me." I almost whisper it.

"Yeah," He says.

I look up from the pool to him. "Hey there, sexy."

Dean's cheeks look a different shade. "Buddy, are you okay?" He tilts his head to try and to keep eye contact with me.

"I'm fine!" I kind of scream.

In a quick motion I put my hands on his shoulders. "Deeaan,"

"Castiel," He says. His breath is hot on my face and I smell no liquor from him.

"I think you're pretty and," I burp a bit. "And we should kiss."

Dean's cheeks turn red-red and laughs. "Cas, it's time to go home."

"Nooo," I say. "It's not fair. I want to kiss you." I close my eyes and pucker my lips. "See, I'm ready."

Dean sighs. Why does he sound sad?

He grabs my hands from his shoulders. "Castiel, please, don't do this."

I open my eyes. "What? It'll make it better." I try to look him in the eyes but everything is fuzzy and all I see is sadness and greenness.

"You don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk. You don't mean anything you say." Dean says. He stands up and pulls me up with him. "It's time to get home."

He pulls me by the waist.

"But Dean, I w-want to." I feel like crying.

Does he really not like me? Am I gross? Will he be my friend after this?

* * *

We are in his bedroom and we are not speaking.

I look towards the floor of the room. The color of black and tiny bit of red I see from my backpack blend together. Then I remember.

I take my backpack and open it, pulling out the vodka bottle. I let my backpack fall back into the floor.

I open the lid and pour it into my mouth. I do not taste anything.

"You stole an entire bottle of vodka." Dean says. It's the first thing he says.

"No," I take another drink.

Dean chuckles a bit.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Why shouldn't I?" He asks.

I stand up and feel myself wanting to pace. "Because this is the only way, and you just won't."

"Cas, you are not making any sense."

"You-you know how I'm stiff like I can't speak right...stiff like…" I stick my finger up as still as I can.

"Sure," Dean says this and it sounds like a question.

Why would he be asking me a question?

I can feel him watch me as I begin to pace. I glance at his face. He is smiling. My stomach feels up and butterflies seem to fly from my head to my toes.

I take another drink from the bottle.

"I have a reason why I am so stiff." I laugh a bit. "It's a really good reason, too."

"Why are you so stiff, Castiel?" His voice seems concerned.

What if I melted and stained his floor? Would I permanently be in the company of Dean Winchester?

"That! That!" I point at his words as they come out of his mouth. "That is why I am stiff."

Dean's face looks more confused than my sexuality.

"You with your words," I pace and run my right hand through my hair. "Your magic words that seem to fill me but never keep me full. The structures of your sentences are an artwork alone. The poetries, that fill the structures, should be put on pedestal and be studied by all. Gods, Goddesses, Homer, himself, should bow down to you. Their words could never match the amount of emotion yours give me."

I take another drink.

I look at Dean. He looks at me.

"I'm sorry." I say.

Dean stands up and walks to stand in front of me. "C-Cas, you're not just saying these things because you're drunk. Are you? Because if you are, I'm not going to be able-"

"I'm not, Dean. It's just easier to say it now because I have no filter."

"Oh," Dean chuckles a bit and looks at his floor. "I asked you to come with me to the party because I had a plan."

"What kind of plan?"

"The kind of plan to make you realize I like you, as in boyfriend-like."

"Oh," It takes a few seconds for the words to actually register in my brain. "Oh!"

"It didn't work out though." He shrugs. "You walked away from me when we got to the party and by the time I could find you, you were already drunk."

"Sorry, I guess." I laugh a little.

He laughs too.

I walk around him, to his bed, and sit down. "This is funny, you know."

He sits beside me, closer to the head board. "Yeah,"

"I mean we've been best friends for like…ever. Then we both like each other in the not best-friend-way."

Dean looks from the floor to me. I'm already staring at him and it doesn't seem to startle him, like when we first became friends.

"So," He says.

I don't know if it's because I'm drunk but his eyes seem to beam a brighter green.

"You wouldn't mind if I tried kissing you. Right?"

I shake my head and whisper. "No,"

I whisper because Dean is like a wide-eyed, timid dog and if I say anything too loud he'll run away. Also this is a relationship defining moment.

Dean nods.

He begins to lean closer and I'm not sure if I should close my eyes. I don't really want to, but would it be awkward to keep them open. My drunken mind should just shut up.

Dean stops leaning in when his lips feel like they are an inch away. His breath goes rigid.

"Cas, I don't know if-"

My drunken mind takes over and I grab his face.

Lips touch lips and we both freeze. My hands pull three inches from his face. It feels like we were in that state for years. But Dean makes the first move but tugging on my bottom lip and I react.

A hand runs through the back of his hair and holds it, the other keeps his face close to mine.

His hands touch my body, pull me closer, and grip my clothes.

Hands. Hands, everywhere and no where they need to be.

Dean begins to lean back and I go with him. While our lips are still connected, I hover over his body and begin slipping my right hand between his jacket and t-shirt. Dean does the same with his hand and pulls me down.

But something feels wrong, maybe because it suddenly got too hot in the room, maybe because my stomach did two front flips and five back flips and not in the good way.

I stop kissing Dean and pull away. I lean back on the back of my legs and, actually, on his legs.

Out of breath, Dean asks me. "W-what's wrong?" He props up on his elbows.

"I…"

I quickly get off of Dean and run out of his room. I run down the hallway, to the bathroom, and then I'm on my knees in front of the toilet.

Dean walks in and begins to pat my back. "I'm being hopeful and thinking that this is not because of my kissing."

I laugh a little bit before violently vomiting again.

After three more vomits and panting, I stand up and flush the toilet. Dean hands me a piece of paper towel, I wipe my face off. He takes my hand and walks us to his room.

Dean lays me on the bed. He exits the room. When he comes back his has a bucket and wash cloth. He sits the bucket beside the bed and then gets in with me.

He gently lays the, wet, wash cloth on my forehead and kisses my ear. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

"I like-like you, Castiel." He says in my ear.

"I like-like you, too, Dean."

* * *

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 **This is crazy nerve racking to post this, but only this.**

 **Thanks again for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean," Castiel says.

"What, Cas?" Dean says from the couch. He was reading a book. He doesn't bother to look up to the ex-angel.

"Have you ever questioned your sexuality?"

The question makes Dean look up from the book.

He finally finds his friend, with his eyes, sitting on a chair diagonally sitting across from him. Castiel was sitting and staring at Dean.

"Um…I," Dean didn't _really_ want to answer the question. But Castiel is his friend, he can trust him. Right? "Why are you asking?"

Castiel wonders if he has hit a difficult subject for Dean. He decides he has and he should talk first in order for Dean to talk.

"Because I…uh," Castiel figures out this is a difficult subject for him, too. He looks at the floor. "I know I am supposed to like women. At least, I think that is what I am _supposed_ to like. I have never really thought to ask God this question. I guess I never really wondered until now."

Dean looks at Castiel, watching him lick his lips. Dean remembers the first time he wondered what it'd be like to kiss those lips.

"Also I'm questioning it. I wanted to know if other humans did."

Dean sits there for a second. "Yeah, I've questioned it. A couple times, actually."

Castiel looks up to Dean. "Really?"

Dean nods. "Yep, especially as a teenager."

"What did you do about it?"

Dean swallows and wonders if he can tell Castiel. "I, uh…guess you can say I explored."

Castiel looks at his friend with confusion. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a straight line. And then he gets it. His face softens and his eyebrows rise.

"Oh, that's what you mean."

Dean blushes a bit and nods. "Yeah,"

They were quiet for a couple of seconds.

"How would I safely explore, Dean?" Castiel asks.

Dean looks at Castiel, his eyebrows were furrowed. He wasn't judging. He was just…jealous? Confused? Curious? How about all three?

"Well you could safely explore by using protection, obviously. Also meeting a person, or knowing a person, you really trust, and they are…willingly going to do it?"

Dean doesn't know how to word. How would anyone know how to word this? This is rather difficult.

"Oh," Castiel nods.

"How about we go to a bar and try to pick you up a man?" Dean never thought he'd say those words to Castiel.

Castiel smiles and seems to almost laugh. "Okay,"

Dean nods and stands up. He starts walking to his room.

"Sam, get dressed! Cas is gonna grab him a man!"

"What?"

* * *

Castiel, Dean, and Sam were sitting at the bar.

Sam was relaxed. He was drinking a beer and checking out the local ladies. They were all pretty nice in his opinion. He is still wondering why Dean is helping Castiel get a man. Shouldn't _he_ be the one trying to get into Castiel's pants?

Dean was not exactly relaxed. He was pretty confident that this wouldn't work and that Castiel would get sad. But that's okay, because Dean would swoop in and comfort Castiel, as a good friend only. But then again, one thing could lead to another.

Castiel was not relaxed. He was not having fun. He felt uncomfortable. But he didn't want to say that because Dean seemed happy to try and help him 'score'. He was scared that if this did work and a man decided to have the sex with him, he wouldn't be safe. He would feel safe with Dean. Castiel shakes his head physically. He shouldn't think about that.

"So, Cas, are you finding anyone you like?" Dean asks.

Castiel decides to actually _look_ around since he won't be 'scoring' with his ideal man. He scans the crowd.

Not his type

Not his type

Not his type

Not Dean!

Wait…

Castiel looks back at the man that's been staring at him. The man was actually beautiful and he was actually staring at Castiel.

"I think I did."

Dean's heartbeat begins to speed up as he lines up Castiel's gaze with the man across the room.

 _Oh damn_ was Dean's first thought. There was no way he could compete with _this_ guy!

Castiel looked the man over. He was tall looking. His hair was dark brown and seemed to linger over his forehead. Bright color pierced through the hooded eyes, that's what caught Castiel's attention the most.

Suddenly the man stands up and looks to be walking the three boys' way.

Sam stands up, too. "I'm going to walk away before this gets weird." He announces. "I'll be over there." He points to an attractive black hair woman.

The man circles around the bar and sits in the seat beside Castiel.

"Hey,"

"Hello,"

Castiel turns towards him, seeming to forget that Dean was beside him. Dean looks forward and takes a sip of his beer. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Castiel and the mystery fellow getting to know each other.

"What's your name?" The mystery man gets comfortable in his seat.

"Castiel,"

The man smiles, "Like the angel,"

"Yeah," Castiel almost wants to laugh. "Like the angel," He pauses for a moment. "What is your name?"

"Parker,"

After the introduction, Castiel and Parker began talking and, well, drinking. The drinking began to affect the two and when it did Dean, full of jealous possibly, decided to find him a booth and order food. He needed to get away from _that_ as quickly as possible.

* * *

"So Parker," Castiel says.

Parker raises his head from the counter top and looks at Castiel with a smile. "Yes,"

"What is your favorite movie?"

"Probably something Marvel," Parker thinks. "The Avengers…yeah."

"Dean likes that movie, too."

Parker laughs, still smiling. "You talk a lot about this Dean-fellow. What? Do you like him?"

Castiel begins to blush. He puts an elbow on the counter top and rests his head on the hand. "Maybe,"

"Dude," Parker playfully pushes Castiel. "Come on, you can trust me."

Castiel smiles and nods, "Yeah, I like him."

Parker gasps. "That's so cool. You should tell him!"

Castiel shakes his head and giggles. "No, that is scary."

"You gotta be a man about this, yo." Parker takes the shot in his hand. He makes a face and sticks his tongue out.

"I think it would be best if I left the thought alone." Castiel says quietly while staring at the countertop.

Parker reaches his hand across the way and hold Castiel's cheek. Castiel looks at him. For a second, Castiel can see Dean in Parker's face. He blinks a couple times, not believing what he is seeing but desperately wanting to.

"Castiel, have you ever kissed a man?" Parker asks.

"No," Castiel whispers.

Parker smiles, "Would you like to try?"

"Yes," Castiel whispers his answer, not sure if his yes is a true yes.

Parker holds Castiel's face and leans in. Castiel copies his action.

When lips touch nothing special happens. There are no sparks or fireworks that Castiel has heard of before. This is a kiss. This is an experimental kiss. But there is realization. Castiel recognizes the way the kiss feels and how with the kiss he now knows what he truly feels.

Castiel pulls away. He pulls away from the kiss. He pulls away from Parker's touch.

Parker stares at Castiel, knowing what he is thinking about.

"Are you going to tell him now?"

Castiel nods, standing up, wobbling a little, "Thanks, Parker."

"No problem," Parker shrugs and turns to the bartender.

Castiel turns around and searches the room for Dean. His eyes land on the man. He quickly walks the distant between them.

Castiel stands in front of Dean's table.

Dean looks up from his beer. He smiles. "Did ya get'em?"

"I want to go home." Castiel says. The alcohol is still affecting him, but he can think straight.

Dean, believing something is wrong, stands up. "Yeah, okay. Let's go."

While walking out, Dean passes Sam and tells him they are leaving.

Sam tells Dean he'll find his way back to the bunker that he believes he can score with this lady.

Dean nods and pats him on the back.

* * *

In the car, Dean tries to make Castiel talk about what happened. He believes something had happened in the few seconds he looked away. The man had to have said or done something to make him look so down. It's almost funny, since he has no idea what Castiel is thinking.

"What happened back there?" He asks.

Castiel is looking out the window, trying to breathe and trying to control his too fast of a beating heart. "We kissed."

Dean almost completely hides the fact that this bothers him. The sharp inhale and the uncomfortable shifting is what showed it.

"Did it," He stops, searching for the correct words, "Did it feel right?"

"This kiss felt both right and wrong."

Dean glances at Castiel.

* * *

"Do you want a beer?" Dean asks.

Castiel plops down on the couch. "Yes,"

Dean walks in and hands him a glass beer bottle, then sits beside him.

"Do you want to watch TV?"

"Yeah,"

Dean presses a button turning the television on. He searches for a minutes then settles on watching _Friends_.

Halfway through the episode, Castiel believes it's the right time to do the action.

Castiel turns his body to face Dean, by putting a leg under his body. Dean notices the action and turns a bit to face Castiel.

Castiel raises a shaking hand. He reaches towards Dean, who is quiet and still. Castiel takes his first finger and traces Dean's cheek bone, over his ear, and down his neck to gently hold it. Dean, scared out of his mind, slightly leans into the touch.

"Dean, may I kiss you?" Castiel whispers the simple question.

Dean, not able to find his voice, nods.

Castiel and Dean inhale at the same time. Castiel stares at Dean's lips and pulls them closer.

This time there are sparks and fireworks.

Castiel feels butterflies, the beautiful kind.

Dean feels warm.

The repositioning of lips makes this kiss exciting. Tugging of lips make hands pull each other closer. Hands on faces and hands on the middle of backs.

When the kiss is over and it's time to breathe, they unwillingly pull away.

Castiel and Dean stare at one another, eyes on eyes.

Castiel smiles widely at Dean.

Dean smiles, too, and laughs, ducking his head down.

* * *

 **Please review, favorite, and/or follow.**

 **Thank you so much for reading.**

 **Tell me what you think and I'll post more.**


	3. Chapter 3

**(Trigger Warning)...I guess.**

* * *

He does it because it makes him feel better. It makes him feel better about being like this. It shouldn't make him feel better. It's a really dumb thing to do, but he couldn't stop really. It's not like he wants to.

Castiel sat on the closed lid of the toilet. He rubs his right hand over the pale skin of his left forearm. Along the arm ran long, dark marks, Castiel personally thought they were beautiful. He knows if anyone else saw them, they wouldn't think they were beautiful. That's why he began wearing long sleeved tshirts even when he is just at the bunker.

Castiel takes the razor from his sweat pants' pocket. He flips it around between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He remembers when he got the razor.

He had stopped this for about three weeks. But suddenly everything started to pile on. Sam had yelled at him that night. It was over something stupid and Castiel shouldn't have gotten so worried about it. He excused himself from the room and found himself in the bathroom. He rummaged through the whole bathroom, trying to find something sharp. He found a face razor. He pulled it apart. It was difficult, but he did it.

In real time, Castiel holds the razor in his hand, hovering over his arm. His breath was shaky but his hand was surprisingly steady. Castiel presses the razor into his arm. He lets the razor sink into the skin. When he feels it sting, when he feels a break between his skins, he drags the razor to the right. Skin tears and Castiel closes his eyes for a second. He repeats his previous actions again, making sure to breathe in and out. He goes to rip his skin for a third time when his thoughts on interrupted.

"Cas," Dean was knocking on the door. "The food's done."

"Okay," Castiel's voice wavered a bit.

"Uh, okay. Hurry so it doesn't get cold on you." Dean's footsteps walk away.

Castiel rips toilet paper off and presses it against his arm. He puts the razor back into his pocket and stands up. He throws the toilet paper away. He pulls his sleeves down. He takes more toilet paper and pushes it into the sleeve of the ripped apart arm.

He walks out of the bathroom.

Castiel walks into dining-room-type-deal and sits at the table. He looks at the food and by auto-pilot begins spooning it onto his plate.

Sam and Dean begin a conversation. Castiel doesn't bother to try and keep up it because he knows he won't understand most of it. Castiel props an arm onto the table and rests his head on the hand. He pushes the food around with his fork, with his free hand. So easily, he begins to get lost in the swirls of peas and mashed potatoes. He huffs out a breath as he lifts the spoon to his mouth. He puts the mixture of food into his mouth. He almost wants to not chew and swallow. For a moment, he wants to open his mouth and let all the food just fall out. He decides that's too odd.

"Cas,"

He raises his head up. He looks between the brothers. "Yes,"

"Are you okay?" Sam asks him. "You zoned out on us."

Castiel looks at Sam. He feels the brotherly love from him and it almost makes him want to smile. Castiel looks at Dean. He sees the confusion on his face and it makes Castiel worried.

"I'm fine."

Castiel goes back to swirling his food.

"Cas, you know, you can tell us if something is up." Dean says. He looks at small Castiel with such a beautifully intense stare that he doesn't see.

"I know," Castiel says.

"Dude, your arm's bleeding." Sam says surprised.

Castiel cooly glances at his arm. Yep, it's bleeding through the toilet paper and his shirt.

"Okay,"

"You need to clean that up so it doesn't get infected."

"Okay," Castiel doesn't move. He was telling his body to move, but his body wouldn't listen to him. He was telling his body to get up and go clean it, but his body sat still.

Sam and Dean share a confused look. Sam gestures towards Castiel saying 'what the poo?' while Dean glances at Sam, and then continues to give Castiel a gentle stare.

Dean starts to stand up. "I'll go get the first-aid kit and clean you up."

Suddenly, Castiel is on his feet.

"No," He says it a little too loud. "I can do it myself."

He turns and walks to the stairs and up them.

When he knows they can't see him, he begins to run his fingers through his hair with nervousness. He has picked up since becoming human the habit of his. It never calms him though.

Castiel walks to a closet. He opens and quickly, with his eyes, looks for the first-aid kit. He locates the first-aid kit at the top of the closet.

"Of course," He whispers to himself.

He goes to reach for it but finds out he isn't tall enough. He gains three inches when he stands on the tips of his toes. He reaches, again, for the kit. He smacks it a bit, which causes it to fall off the shelf and land on the ground with a very loud and obnoxious thud. It cracked open and everything in the kit scatters around.

Castiel bends down to pick the objects from the kit up but ends up sitting down.

He presses his back against the wall and looks around at the hallway that's covered in gauze, Band-Aids, aspirin tablets, and other healing necessities.

He hears the stomping of a man coming up the stairs. He should move.

"Cas, what happened?" Dean walks closer to the scene.

"The first-aid kit fell."

Dean stands over him with his hands on his hip, looking around. "And you didn't think to clean this up?"

"No," Castiel says. "I tried to. But…" His sentence trails off to a silence.

Dean huffs out a breath and sits in front of Castiel.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dean asks.

Castiel looks at Dean and feels calm.

"And please, don't lie." Dean's eyes give off this loving look.

"I am not okay." Castiel says. "I have not been okay for a while."

"Alright," Dean nods. "What's been going on?"

Castiel hesitates.

Castiel's and Dean's eyes stay leveled and it's an intimate moment. Moments like these should be cherished when they come around. To be able to hold a gaze with someone without faltering should be treasured. The moment becomes more intimate when Dean slowly takes Castiel's hand and pulls it towards him.

"Let me clean your arm."

Castiel quickly pulls his arm back. "No, no, no."

Dean's thoughts connect but he doesn't want to believe it.

"Cas," His voice becomes demanding. "Pull your sleeve up,"

Tears begin to appear on Castiel's eyelids, he looks down at his arm and back to Dean. He holds his arm close to his chest.

He shakes his head. "No,"

"Castiel," Dean's mouth voices his name fully. "That wasn't a suggestion."

Castiel shakes his head back and forth. His tears are already falling down his face slowly.

"Dean, you will not understand."

"Give me a chance to try, Cas."

Castiel doesn't move now. He sits there pressed against the wall, staring at the man he feels the most love for. He can't show him this weakness he has. Dean Winchester doesn't deal with weakness like these.

Dean reaches out and grabs Castiel's arm. He pulls it towards his body.

Castiel lets him this time. He doesn't have even fight in him to stop this anyway.

Dean looks at Castiel's face, while Castiel looks at his own arm, while pushing the sleeve up.

Dean doesn't gasp when he sees the mutilation Castiel has done to his own body. He had an idea of what was under the sleeve. Dean pulls the wet-with-blood paper from Castiel's skin.

Dean looks around him for anything to clean this with. He finds a tiny, plastic bottle full of alcohol and a few cotton balls near him. Still holding Castiel's hand, he reaches for them and pulls them closer. He lets go off Castiel's hand to pour the rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball.

Dean began to press it against the cuts.

"Cas, what's your favorite movie?" Dean asks him.

Castiel looks from Dean cleaning his wounds to the man's face. His face showed that he was occupied with the task at hand. Castiel traced Dean's cheekbones with his eyes.

"Star Trek: Into Darkness,"

Dean's face showed a hint of smile. "We watched that movie last night together. Remember?"

Castiel nods, fond of the memory of sitting next to Dean in the dark room. Sam had been out, getting food for the men.

"What's the last song you listened to?"

Castiel winces at the sting the alcohol gives, but he tries to think.

"Black on Black by AC/DC,"

"What's your favorite animal?" Dean asks him.

"I can tell you my favorite insect."

Dean laughs, "Alright. What's your favorite insect?"

"Bees," Castiel says with a small smile.

"We are all done here." Dean says as he pulls the sleeve down.

Castiel looks at Dean and Dean looks at Castiel.

Dean reaches out and pushes Castiel's hair back with soothing fingers.

"Next time you think about doing this…come to me." Dean says pulling his arm back. "It doesn't matter what we are doing, just come to me."

"Okay, Dean."

* * *

Castiel rolled over in his bed. He looks at the ceiling. He can't see it because it's darker than dark in his room, but he knows it's there.

Castiel pushes his sleeve up and begins to run his fingers along the fresh wounds, and the older ones. He breathed in and out. He closes his eyes and prays for sleep. He waits for sleep but it doesn't come. He kept thinking about it. He was used to ripping his skin at least three times a day. It helped him start his day, continue on with his day, and end his day. He can't end his day.

Castiel remembers what Dean said. He said it doesn't matter what they are doing, just go to him. Does sleeping count?

Castiel pushes the covers off his body and stands up. The cold ground gives him almost an electric shock and he starts moving.

Castiel exits his room, leaving the door open. Just make it to Dean's room and everything will be fine.

He almost makes it, but in order to get to Dean's room, he has to pass the bathroom.

Castiel stops in front of the bathroom. He knows that he hid the razor in there. He remembers where it is. He knows he could easily get in there and just ends this want.

Standing there feels like days, Castiel doesn't move. He feels like he isn't even breathing. He is just staring at the door. His hands are together, wringing around, pulling at each other's fingers. Castiel takes a deep breath and walks pass the bathroom.

He opens the door to Dean's room and suddenly he is too scared. But it's too late. The light from the hallway is pouring into the room and he can hear shifting from the bed. He walks and quietly closes the door. He slowly inches towards the bed. He stands beside it for a moment, thinking he should just run back and lie in his own bed.

"Cas, is that you?" Dean's voice was dragging itself down with sleep.

"Y-yeah," Castiel whispers it.

Fabric is moved fast.

"Get in here,"

Castiel gets into the bed. Dean pulls the sheets and comforter over him.

They lay apart for a while. Castiel shaking because he's scared he'll stand up, and walk to the bathroom. He doesn't want to, but his body wants to.

Dean's hand reaches across the bed, for what seems like miles, before he makes contact with Castiel.

"Come closer," He whispers.

Castiel doesn't hesitate. He rolls closer to Dean, while Dean puts his arm around Castiel's waist pulling him closer than close.

"I tried to stay up and wait for you." Dean tells him. "But I fell asleep."

Castiel chuckles lightly. Dean smiles to himself for making Castiel laugh.

While lying in the darkness with Dean, Castiel feels the light peek of lips on the back of his neck.

"Castiel, why do you hurt yourself?" Dean whispers the question but the room is so quiet that to Castiel it feels like he yelled it.

Castiel backed up farther into Dean's body, trying to gain some warmth. "You will think I am weak."

Dean takes a hand and begins to pull Castiel's hair back behind his ear. "I could never think you're weak. You're the strongest man I know."

"I do it because it makes me feel better." Castiel confesses. "Because I feel really bad,"

"What do you feel bad about, angel?" Dean's voice isn't full of sleep anymore. He has gotten past that now.

Castiel stiffens at the word. Angel. He almost wants to laugh. Is Dean trying to mock his pain? He knows Castiel isn't an angel anymore.

Castiel begins to rub his mutilated arm again. "I am not an angel anymore, Dean."

Dean runs his fingers between Castiel's shoulder and elbow. "Is that what's bothering you?"

"What else would be?" It wasn't a question that needed an answer.

"Castiel, I still think of you as my angel."

Castiel, feeling sleep begin to creep up on him, nestles his head into the pillow.

"Your angel,"

Dean puts his arm back around Castiel's waist and tightens his grip. "Yes, _my_ angel."

"I am just so tired all the time, Dean." Castiel begins to voice his problems. "It is as if I have a million thoughts in my mind but zero at the same time. All I want to do is sleep but I cannot sleep."

"Well you're about to fall asleep now."

"You are distracting me from other things."

"How about we do something together?" Dean asks. "You, Sam, and I can start doing more things together. You've been stuffing yourself in your room too much."

"I would like that, Dean."

"Alright,"

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

Dean paced the floor; going back and forth with such speed that Sam was getting dizzy by just watching him. He was running his hand down his face randomly, slightly squeezing.

"Will you stop that?!" Sam yells, putting his hands up. "You're making me nervous."

Dean stops, turning towards Sam, hands out to him.

"Wouldn't he had called by now?"

"What?"

"I mean," Dean begins to pace again. "He would've called by now. Do you think something has happened?"

"Oh, you're talking about Cas." Sam says, finally getting it.

"Well who else would I be talking about?" Dean says. His voice was beginning to sound irritated. "Cas is the only other person that lives here."

"He might have lost track of time." Sam says picking his book up.

Dean shakes his head. "No, something is up."

"Hello,"

Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel standing near the table. Dean puts his hands on his lower hips and puts his left leg out.

"What took you so long?"

Castiel gives Dean a confused look. "It is," He looks at a nearby clock. "8:30 PM."

"Yeah, but you left at eleven this morning. That's a long time, Cas."

Castiel, getting defensive, crosses his arms on his chest. "When did you become my father, Dean?"

"The exact moment when you thought it was okay to just take off for hours," Dean's voice was getting louder.

By this sentence Sam had put his book down and was turning his head back and forth like he was watching an intense tennis math.

"Last time I checked, Dean, I was an adult. I can look after myself."

"You are an angel in an adult body. You don't understand most things because of that. You didn't know what Sesame Street was!"

"I am sorry that educating myself on popular children shows were not on the top of my list!"

Dean rolls his eyes and turns away, walking to the kitchen.

"Nom" Castiel walks after him. "You are not allowed to walk away mid-argument. You started it you will end it properly."

When both men were in the kitchen-room, Sam took this time to run to his room.

Dean opens the refrigerator with force, grabs a beer, and then shuts the door.

"Cas, let's drop it."

Castiel shakes his head. "No, I want to know why you are so concerned about my being "late"." He uses air-quotes.

"Because," Dean stops his sentence, thinks about it, shakes his head, and then takes a drink.

"What?" Castiel tries to maintain eye contact with the green-eyed mystery.

Dean doesn't say anything, just stares blankly into Castiel's confuse blue-eyes.

"What?" Castiel raises his voice in anger,

Why couldn't Dean just spit it out already?

"Because when you're late," Dean pauses, touching the kitchen table with one finger. "I always think something bad has happened."

Castiel's facial expression softens a bit. "Dean, I know how to fight. I can pro-"

"Yeah, I get that." Dean says setting his beer down. "But there's always that possibility."

Castiel walks pass Dean to the refrigerator. He gets a soda from it then sits at the tiny table.

"I think you worry too much, Dean."

Deans smiles a bit. "That's kind of my job."

"You always worry about everyone else." Castiel wasn't listening to Dean.

Dean looks at Castiel's face, who was staring at the table's top.

"Do you not think Sam and I get worried when you do that?"

"I never really-"

"Yeah, you never really thought about it." Castiel sips his drink. He looks at the can, really looks at it. "You know what's weird?"

"What?" Dean continues to stare at Castiel.

"I always forget what Dr. Pepper tastes like."

Dean smiles.

"So then I wonder what Dr. Pepper tastes like and I forget why they call it that." Castiel rambles. "But then I taste it and remember."

"Is that how things work in your mind?" Dean asks.

Castiel slightly shrugs. "Sometimes,"

"Listen," Dean begins. "I'm sorry about blowing up. I was just-"

"I promise to call next time."

Dean nods.

"So," He says sipping his beer. "What were you doing out so late?"

"I had I went to a park to look at some bees, so I could think. It became dark and I was about to come home, but then the fireflies started to come out. "Castiel explains. "It got distracted by them."

Dean laughs.

"Does this mean father and dad has made up?" Sam says, not really asking, walking in.

"Am I 'dad'?" Castiel asks.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

"Dean, Tandy called me yesterday." Castiel says his eyes were open staring at the ceiling.

Dean's eyes were still closed. "Is everything going okay? What did she say?"

"She said she will figure out the gender really soon. She also said she has a surprise for us. It is supposed to be a big surprise."

"Wow,"

"Dean, we need to think of a name." Castiel says.

The pair was lying in bed, having a lazy Saturday.

"Can't we wait until next week when we know the gender?"

"That doesn't mean we can't think." Castiel rolls over onto his stomach. He puts his head onto Dean's chest.

"Okay," Dean looks down at his husband. "What names did you have in mind?"

Castiel looks startled. "I don't know! That's why we need to think."

Dean laughs, readjusting his head to look at the ceiling. "Okay,"

* * *

"What about the name Jack?" Dean asks. His hands were scratching at his head, bubbles running down his neck.

"What?" Castiel was busy brushing his teeth.

Dean pokes his head out of the shower. "Jack, for a boy."

Castiel spits in the sink and looks at Dean. "I am not comfortable with our child being named man."

"Is that what it means?"

"Kind of,"

Dean goes back into his shower. "Never mind, then."

* * *

"What about Ariel?"

Dean looks up from the pan of beef. "Like the Disney princess?"

"Yeah," Castiel says.

"I don't hate it." Dean saying pushing the beef around. "Maybe,"

Castiel nods.

* * *

Castiel pushes on the man's stomach. "Does that hurt?"

The man shakes his head.

Castiel moves his fingers and pushes again. "What about that?"

"A little bit,"

"Okay,"

Before Castiel could press his fingers down again, his cellphone rings.

"Excuse me for a moment,"

Castiel turns his back to the man and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

"I'm with a patient, Dean." He says angrily.

"Mason," Dean says.

"Did you really just call him because of a name?" Sam could be heard through the phone.

"Shut up!" Dean yells at his younger brother. "So Cas, what do you think of it?"

Castiel nods to himself. "Yeah, it's a lovely name."

"Good," Dean says. "Have fun at work."

He hangs up.

* * *

"Have you seen my lazy pants?" Castiel asks as he enters the living room.

Dean looks towards the doorway and smiles. His silly husband was in a Led Zepplin tshirt, an old one of Dean's, and underwear. His hair was insanely ruffled.

"No, babycakes, I haven't." Dean says. "Why can't you chill like that?"

"How about Nancy for a girl?" Castiel asks.

"Wouldn't it make sense if we just call her Grace? Since that's what it means."

Castiel crosses his arms. "I don't want to call our baby Grace." He shakes his head. "No,"

Dean laughs. "What do you have against the name Grace?"

"There was once a mean girl with pigtails called Grace." He says. "I don't want to talk about it."

Castiel turns and walks out of the room.

"Okay then, weirdo."

* * *

When Castiel finally found his lazy pants, he and Dean slouch sat on the couch. Castiel was an arm length away from Dean. He had his hand on Dean's head, randomly twirling Dean's hair. They were watching Sherlock.

"How about Sherlock?" Castiel asks.

"How about no,"

Castiel shrugs.

* * *

Castiel rolls off his husband. Both lay on their bed, heavily breathing. Dean gives Castiel a side look. He took note of the sweat glistening on his chest. Dean knew that in the next few seconds Castiel was going to invite him to the shower.

"Chicago," Dean croaks.

Castiel turns his head and scrunches his eyebrows. "What?"

Dean coughs to clear his throat. "Chicago for a boy."

"Dude, no." Castiel pushes himself off the bed. He walks to the bathroom's door. He leans against the doorframe. "Will you join me, baby?"

"Hell yeah,"

* * *

12:30 AM

The husbands were peacefully lying in their bed. Both were in that beautiful state where you are asleep but enough awake to notice and hear everything.

Dean's head was resting on Castiel's chest. Dean's hand was lying on Castiel's heart. Castiel's arm was wrapped around Dean in a gentle way.

Dean slightly rubs his face into Castiel's chest and pushes his arm around Castiel, pulling him closer.

"Bishop," Dean says.

"Overseer," Castiel says.

"You like it?"

"Mmhmm,"

* * *

Dean smacks the cupboard.

"This night is sparkling. Don't you let it go." He sang along with Taylor Swift passionately.

Castiel laughs a little bit as he entered the kitchen. "Are you having fun?"

Dean turns around pointing at Castiel. "I was enchanted to meet you!"

Castiel laughs again walking passed him to the oven. He slightly stirs the food in the pot.

"How about Taylor?" Dean asks dancing around to the music.

"After you favorite pop star," Castiel says then shrugs. "Why not?"

"Woo!" Dean yells.

* * *

"Dean," Castiel walks into the bedroom his voice and hands shaking.

"Babycakes, what's wrong?" Dean gets up and walks to his husband.

"Tandy just called."

Dean's eyes widen. "Wh-what did she say? What's the baby's gender?"

"It's not 'baby', Dean."

"What?"

"It's babies!" Castiel screams. "Babies! Two!"

Dean gasps. "Two?"

Castiel nods. "Two!"

Dean hugs him tightly. "Two!" Then he holds Castiel out, arm length. "Did she figure out the genders?"

"There's a boy and a girl." Castiel smiles brightly.

"Boy and girl!" Dean pulls him into another hug.

* * *

Castiel was pacing the floor, biting his nails. Dean was sitting on a waiting-room chair, chilly munching on a bag of chips.

"Dean, how are you not freaking out?" Castiel asks. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Everything will be fine, Babycakes."

"You're not helping."

A woman in white get up walks to the pair. "Are you the Winchesters?"

"Y-yes,"

She smiles. "Come with me, please."

* * *

"Cas, they're beautiful." Dean has his hands against the glass.

Castiel was smiling. "They're so tiny."

"They already have black hair like you." Dean says.

"I swear, next time we'll use your sperm."

Dean laughs out loud. "Alright,"

* * *

"So babies this is your home." Dean says as they walk in the door.

"This is where you're gonna learn how to poo and pee and talk and-"

"Cas, you're getting carried away."

"Sorry,"

Soon Dean and Castiel got the babies settled in. After that Dean went to go get him and Castiel a small lunch. When he walks back into the nursery, he sees Castiel staring at the babies.

"Cas, that's weird." He says handing Castiel a plate with a sandwich on it.

"But they're so cute and chubby and squishy. It's hard not to look."

Dean smiles at his husband's words.

Castiel sits down on a rocking chair, Dean in the other one.

Castiel takes a bite out of his sandwich. "Do you think we picked out good names?"

"I think they're fine."

"You don't think they'll grow up and hate them. Do you?"

Dean shrugs.

"Bishop Timothy Winchester and Audrey Taylor Winchester," Castiel says.

"See good names, strong names." Dean says mouth full of sandwich.

"Strong names?"

"Yeah,"

* * *

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